not the same
by tzaya
Summary: Izaya was a lost cause, and Shizuo wasn't forgiving enough to forget about all the terrible things Izaya had inflicted on him.


_They'd done it again_ , he thought as he stood under the tree, clothes wet from the rain and drops of water trickled down his cheeks to his chin– was it the raindrops, his tears of anger, or _both_? It was only for Izaya to know, despite how hard he tried to convince himself that it was fine by him that the others left him to be ambushed by a stupid gang who wanted to prove their strength by having a go at him. He couldn't forget those eyes, even _Shinra'_ _s_ , watching as bruises started to form on his cheeks and collarbone from the punches before the gazes left as though they'd seen nothing. They probably thought he deserved it, and he couldn't blame them, but perhaps it was his fault for expecting Shinra, _at least_ Shinra (not even Dotachin and of course, much less Shizu-chan) to care.

"Are you fascinated by these bluish-purple marks? I thought it was nothing compared to the surgeries you perform on dead bodies," he exhaled a shaky breath, laughing only to wheeze when a sharp pain shot through his abdomen, "who knew you'd take interest in something as simple as this?" Izaya knew that it wasn't the case. The only reason those words even made it past his lips were because he was afraid to think of other reasons as to why Shinra could've done that.

Reasons that could make his heart twist in pain.

"Ah, how fun today was," his shaky hands gripped the sleeves of his gakuran tightly to create any semblance of warmth, teeth chattering from the cold, but he still managed a smile.

"Oi."

A familiar voice called out to him, and he recognized it almost immediately due to how rude it sounded. It belonged to the last person on Earth Izaya wanted to meet in this situation, yet he wasn't surprised that fate had one more in store for him. He tipped his chin up, gaze falling on blonde hair and pink lips wrapped around a lollipop (how could they stay that perfect with the amount of nicotine that had come in contact with them? even this part of this person is monster-like).

"Shizu-chan," Izaya responded with a sing-song tone, "won't you share that umbrella with poor me?"

"Why the hell are you here looking so pitifu- Oh."

He could pinpoint exactly when Shizuo realized why he was standing there with various bruises and cuts marring his skin, and truth to be told, he disliked it. Izaya clicked his tongue in distaste.

"Here to laugh at me?" he asked Shizuo.

"I already did earlier."

"Then? Did Shinra send you to experiment on my wounds?"

"No. Why the fuck would I experiment on you?"

"Who knows? Maybe Shizu-chan is searching for ways to turn himself into a human."

"You're still a piece of shit even after getting beaten up."

Shizuo crouched next to him then, and Izaya didn't even know why he did the same, nor did he know why Shizuo hadn't left yet. The pounding in his head would just get worse if he was to ponder over that. Izaya reached a hand out towards the paper bag in Shizuo's clutch, index finger and thumb slowly tugging it closer to him before he took a peek of what was inside. Shizuo only watched him closely.

It seemed like Shizuo went out to buy steamed buns. Truth to be told, if Shizuo was any smarter, he should know to be home by now or it'd get cold.

It wasn't like Izaya was going to tell him that, though.

"I can't let Kururi and Mairu know their brother lost a fight."

"Are you sure it's not because you don't want them to know you cried?"

Izaya's hand stilled as it was about to retreat back to his side (he knew Shizuo would kill him if he was to take one of the steamed buns and Izaya would prefer to not get hit for the second time today), the corners of his lips curling upside down momentarily from Shizuo's assumption but he quickly composed himself, flashing a smile that didn't come off as genuine as he'd masked it to be.

"There's no reason for me to cry. This is nothing. It's not like no one's attacked me before. In fact, Shizu-chan has done it, right? If I'm not mistaken, about a week ago~ It's still fresh in my mind. See, there's even a scar from that fight."

"I didn't say you cried because you got attacked," Shizuo popped the lollipop out, tongue trailing across his lips. He didn't even bother to glance at the scar Izaya was showing him, nimble fingers lifting half of the soaked shirt up.

"?"

"… but because you felt alone. Idunno."

"How'd Shizu-chan know? For all he knew, they could've punched my eyes. That's why they're red."

"Shinra, Kadota, they both have someone to go back to at the end of the day, or when they get hurt. But you and I—"

Thirty seconds of silence felt like a lifetime. It took Izaya that long to reply, staring ahead blankly while he processed the truth in those words—the words he didn't want to believe in. His feet were already asleep. They stung and hurt after the hit from a baseball bat earlier but he didn't budge even a bit. When he was ready to answer, he turned to face Shizuo once again, this time with a grin so wide his eyes were crescent shaped.

"What a joke. I didn't know monsters were capable of having feelings, though it is to be expected that they'd feel alone. No one would like such odd creatures."

Izaya was a lost cause.

"Suit yourself."

And Shizuo wasn't forgiving enough to forget about all the terrible things Izaya had inflicted on him.

Shizuo didn't think twice to leave, but he fished out a steamed bun from the paper bag to drop it in Izaya's lap. There were no more words exchanged between them, for Shizuo no longer had anything to say and Izaya was too prideful. Once the shadows of Shizuo's figure disappeared from sight, Izaya picked the steamed bun up and scrutinized it with a disinterested expression on his face. It was a different look from the constant smiling, albeit fake expression that he showed Shizuo just earlier.

Perhaps Shizuo was willing to admit his weakness, his feelings, as if there were absolutely no barriers to his heart, and instead it was just there for everyone to see— but Izaya was different.

"Don't put us on the same pedestal," chuckling in disbelief, he subconsciously crushed the bun in his fist, bottom lip caught between the set of his teeth as he bit down hard onto it until it started to hurt, painful enough to distract him from paying any sort of attention to the tears that threatened to fall or how empty it felt inside.

"I'd never be as weak as Shizu-chan."


End file.
